The House At Flynn's Crossing

By Elisabeth Rose

She's been through hell, so risking her heart should be easy...

Anxious to rid herself and her twins of the dark memories from their past, twenty–three–year old Antonia moves to the small rural town of Flynn's Crossing. Antonia is frightened but determined to be independent for the first time in her life, so she rents Mango House and settles in to the community to begin the process of healing.

Town councilor and local real estate agent Flynn has secrets. Guilt–ridden over a tragic childhood event, he fled the city and devotes his life to assisting others. He has big plans for Flynn's Crossing. Without change, the town will shrivel and die. But the townspeople are resistant to his ideas, and his discussions with a luxury resort developer.

When Flynn first meets Antonia, he doesn't know her sensationalised past, and Antonia feels normal for the first time. Slowly, as they get to know each other, to trust each other, Antonia begins to consider the possibility of something more. But when tensions over the resort development reach breaking point, she discovers that Flynn hasn't been entirely honest, and her new beginning is at risk of ending. When Flynn has to choose between the town he's devoted his life to and the woman he barely knows, can she trust that the man who healed her heart will treat it with care?
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Nov 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781489256690

Elisabeth Rose

Multi-published in romance, author Elisabeth Rose lives in Australia's capital, Canberra. She completed a performance degree in clarinet, travelled Europe with her musician husband and returned to Canberra to raise two children. In 1987, she began practising tai chi and now teaches tai chi classes. She also plays and teaches clarinet. Reading has been a lifelong love, writing romance a more recent delight.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Movement caught Simon’s eye and he turned, straightened and rubbed his lower back, squinting into the bright sun already stinging his skin this early in the day. A woman walked slowly, almost hesitantly along the grassy track from the houses. Something about the way she held herself, the slim body, the long dark hair, tickled his memory.

Lauren, across the other side of the large plot, was still digging holes ready for the new batch of lettuces waiting in trays beside the garden beds. Her wide-brimmed straw hat shaded her face but he knew she would be humming softly to herself, her lips curved in that natural smile, loving every minute spent grubbing about in the rich dark soil, making plants grow, tending and caring for them.

He started along the row to meet the visitor. Lauren hadn’t seen her, too far away, back turned.

After the silverbeet planting was done, he’d have to chip the weeds out between the strawberries. The stormy rain they’d had this week made it easy to plant seedlings but it sure made everything grow, including weeds. Thunderstorms were forecast all week, and if they got hail the new crops would suffer. Fingers crossed. Farming was a perpetual fingers-crossed activity.

The woman came closer and the nervous way she trod through the thick, wet, grass clumps made him think of a deer, timid and fearful. Frightened of him? Why on earth would she be?

‘G’day.’ He smiled. The sun was in his eyes and he raised his hand to block the glare. She came into focus. Something twisted in his gut. He knew her …

‘Simon?’

The world reeled as a rush of memories, guilt, remorse, sorrow and most of all complete and overwhelming amazement sucked the air from his lungs.

‘Antonia! I thought you were dead … we all did … we thought …’ He couldn’t go on.

‘I’m not dead.’ The same voice, the same clear skin and deep brown eyes but now shadowed with a depth of experience she hadn’t had before.

‘Antonia …’ He shook his head, uncomprehending. How could this be? ‘What happened to you?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘I can’t believe it.’ He reached out a tentative hand then saw his fingers were caked with earth and she was clean and fresh in a pale blue and white summer dress. He grimaced. ‘Sorry. Filthy.’

She smiled and his heart rolled over at the memory. ‘Mum couldn’t stop touching me when I first came back. Checking I was real.’

‘When did you? When was that?’ So many other questions fighting to be asked. He shook his head, still half disbelieving his own eyes and ears. He could understand Robin’s reaction after years of believing her daughter abducted and murdered.

‘Last June. I’m surprised you didn’t read about it or see it on TV.’

Eight months ago. He couldn’t speak, could only shake his head and stare, taking her in from the glossy crown of her head to her feet in purple leather sandals. She was stunning. She’d been seventeen, they both were, when he’d seen her last—just under six years missing. Then, she was a pretty girl; now she was a beautiful woman.

‘We should go in. Talk.’ He gestured at the cluster of cottages she’d walked past.

‘Hello.’ Lauren stood by his side and he hadn’t even noticed her arrive. ‘I’m Lauren.’

‘Hi, I’m Antonia.’

‘I won’t shake hands, I’m all dirty,’ Lauren said. ‘Planting lettuces.’

‘We’re old friends,’ Simon said with an attempt at normal. ‘We went to school together.’

‘Oh, right.’ The way she said it and the way her clear blue eyes studied Antonia implied there should be more said, an explanation for her sudden appearance. Antonia said nothing.

‘We were just going inside for a drink, catch up,’ he said. ‘Coming in?’

Lauren’s gaze swept to him then passed on to the garden, leaving a slight chill in its wake. ‘No, I’d better get these seedlings in. I reckon it’ll rain again this afternoon.’ But she didn’t move.

‘The garden looks good. You must have great soil here.’ Antonia’s soft voice broke the silence.

‘Yes.’ Lauren flicked her a smile. ‘Do you grow vegetables?’

‘I used to. I did. We … where I lived we were almost self-sufficient.’ She seemed to withdraw into herself, face closed, eyes gone blank, suddenly years older.

‘Where was that?’ Lauren either didn’t notice or didn’t choose to notice Antonia’s reaction. Unusual for her.

‘South of Sydney.’

‘Come on.’ Simon started walking with this new information churning in his head. South of Sydney? What was she doing there, so close to home and not contacting anyone? Her parents were devastated, her family broke up not long after because of it. All she had to do was pick up the phone and call someone. Instead she left them in limbo. Why would she do that to the people who loved her?

Behind him, Antonia said, ‘Nice to meet you, Lauren.’

‘Likewise.’ But Lauren didn’t sound at all pleased about it. Why the hell not? She was usually friendly and welcoming to everyone and she didn’t know Antonia at all. Maybe she was pissed off because he’d walked out on the planting. He’d finish it later.

Antonia’s quick footsteps brushed the grass in his wake and he slowed to let her catch up. She was different to the girlfriend he’d had at school. That Antonia was bubbly, opinionated, ready to try almost anything, oozing confidence. He’d been besotted, shy and ready to take her lead, amazed she was interested in him at all.

This older, twenty-three-year-old Antonia was quiet, reserved and had a profound air about her more usual in someone much, much older. Where had she been? What had happened to her?

He led her to his cottage, the one at the end of the horseshoe-shaped row closest to the encroaching forest of multi-hued green—trees, creepers, climbing vines, ferns, all flourishing in a tangle of nature at its riotous best. Potted herbs clustered about the door, bright red geraniums climbed the wall. He loved his little A-framed home built of timber, sweat and love. Here, for the first time in his life he felt really and truly comfortable, physically and spiritually.

He pulled open the screen door and held it for her. ‘Go in.’

Antonia stepped silently inside while he yanked off his muddy boots and left them on the step. The laundry and bathroom were in an annexe right next to the entrance and he went in to scrub the mud from his hands and arms and splash water on his face.

When he joined her she was looking at the photos on the wall in the small living area. She lingered in front of his favourite—a close-up of a magnificent tree fern clinging to an ancient eucalypt. Next to it was his shot of an orchid growing delicate and fragile in a jumble of tree litter. He’d tramped the bush for days searching for that flower because Flynn had seen one in the area but wasn’t exactly sure where.

‘These are beautiful.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Did you take them?’ She looked over her shoulder in surprise.

‘Yes. Tea or cool drink?’

‘Cool drink, please.

‘Fresh pineapple and mango juice okay?’

‘Yes, thanks. How come you didn’t read about me?’ she said again. ‘It was a pretty big story.’

Sitting opposite her, holding his own glass, he was barely able to look away. She didn’t seem perturbed by his scrutiny.

‘I don’t read the papers much and I don’t have TV. I can’t believe it’s you,’ he said. ‘What happened to you? You didn’t run away, did you?’

‘No. You knew that … you and Bryony.’ He hadn’t given Bryony a thought since they left school. Antonia’s best friend and the third member of the trio—third member of the pact. She ran her tongue over lips. ‘I was abducted by a man who kept me locked up in a house near Coalcliff.’

‘Coalcliff?’ was all Simon could articulate through the unimaginable horror of what she’d said so baldly.

‘It’s south of Sydney, near Bulli. He had other women there too. And children.’

He swallowed, uncomprehending. ‘But how? Where did he take you from?’ She spoke so calmly. How could she?

‘Outside the abortion clinic. He hung around waiting for girls on their own, like me. He had a woman with him—Hannah. He talked to me and was kind and offered to help and give me a place to stay while I decided what I really wanted to do. Until I said I wanted to go home, then he wasn’t so nice.’

‘My God!’ He couldn’t ask the next question. The answer would be too horrible. ‘I should have gone with you. I should have … I was such a bloody wimp.’

‘Simon, we’d decided, remember? You would have been in too much trouble if our parents found out.’

‘We were so stupid. The three of us. And Bryony and me … when the police asked us questions. We never said … it was unbelievably stupid. Whatever they’d done or said to us wouldn’t have been as bad as what happened to you … I’m so, so sorry.’

‘Simon, I haven’t come to see you because I blame you for what happened. I never thought that, ever …’ She took a mouthful of juice, and to his surprise her hand was shaking as she held the glass. A worm of suspicion began squirming deep in his gut.

‘Were you abducted before or after you went in to the clinic?’ he asked slowly.

She looked him in the eye. ‘Before. He wanted our babies so he could imagine he had a family.’ Her lip curled in her first show of disgust for the monster who’d stolen her. ‘He was sterile. He had … sexual problems.’

‘Was he violent?’ he whispered.

She nodded. ‘But not with the children. I think I would have found a way to kill him if he’d harmed them.’

He swallowed. She continued to stare into his eyes, waiting for him to acknowledge what she’d told him.

‘Am I a father?’ His voice was hoarse.

Another nod. ‘Twins.’

‘Twins?’

She sat frozen in place while he digested the news and it dawned on him with a chill that she was petrified. She’d lived with a man who used violence to express himself and she didn’t know how he would react.

She’d hit him with a triple whammy and he could hardly speak, but anger wasn’t anywhere in the whirlpool of emotions he was feeling. He slumped back into the cushions on the cane chair. ‘Twins? That’s … amazing.’

The tension leaked out of her body. ‘Sarah and Jacob. They’re five.’

‘I’m the father of twins! What are they like? Have you got a picture? Where are they?’ A horrible thought struck him. ‘They’re okay, aren’t they? The birth was okay?’

‘It wasn’t much fun, but yes, they’re beautiful.’ She pulled an iPad from her bag and showed him a photo. Two small, dark-haired children gazed solemnly at him. Jacob was the image of himself at the same age.

‘I looked like that when I was five.’ A crazy laugh bubbled up from nowhere. ‘My God, I can’t believe it. Where are they now?’

‘Staying with Mum in Sydney. I came here on my own.’

‘They’re beautiful. Perfect. But …’ He looked up quickly. ‘I thought you didn’t want to have the baby back then, that you’d made up your mind. How come you went with him?’

‘I’ve wondered that too, many times.’ A tiny smile. ‘I wish I’d done everything differently.’ She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘It was a hard thing to do, walk into the clinic. Such a big step when I actually got there. He knew that and took advantage. And Hannah was there. She was … reassuring.’

Simon nodded. ‘I should have gone with you.’

‘Don’t,’ she said softly. ‘If you had I wouldn’t have my children. Our children.’

Looking at her now, he saw what was so different. She was a mother and being a mother trumped any hardship, deprivation and abuse she suffered after the children were born.

She took another mouthful of juice. ‘This is lovely.’

‘We have our own fruit here. How did you get away from that crazy guy?’

‘Dad and Jax, remember her from school? She saw me quite by chance when I was with him at Central Station. He used to take me or Hannah along to try to abduct a new girl. We’d hang out with the anti-abortion protesters. Jax told Dad and the police. He never gave up looking for me. They rescued us, all of us.’

‘Wow. Unbelievable.’ Her father Connor was a big, quiet man but with expectations of his daughter she rebelled against. Simon had kept out of his way.

‘Dad didn’t think I should just front up and dump this on you but … I wasn’t sure how else to tell you. Jax said I should do what I felt was right. They’re getting married,’ she added. ‘She’s good for Dad.’

‘What are you doing? I mean where are you living?’

‘Hannah and her kids and I share a place but I’d like to move out of the city. She wants to stay.’

Her unspoken words hung in the air. Was that why she’d come here? She wanted to move in with him?

‘Where would you go?’ The reticence in his voice shamed him even as he spoke.

‘Simon, I haven’t come here to ask you to take us in and I don’t want money from you.’ He began to protest but she shook her head and continued in her quiet, slightly hesitant voice, so unlike the bold girl he remembered. ‘I thought you should know about your children, and if you wanted to I thought you could meet them. I’d like them to know their father—their real father.’

‘God yes! Absolutely I want to meet them.’ He couldn’t let those little innocents think that insane perverted monster was their father. ‘I’d love to. And I want to help financially.’ Not that he could do much dollar-wise but there was no way she should be coping with this by herself.

‘Thanks, Simon. Mum and Dad have been generous, helping me and the kids but I want...’ She looked at the empty glass in her hand and put it on the table. ‘Do you think I could stay in the town for a bit? Rent somewhere? I thought I could find a place, maybe get a job.’ Again the doubtful tone, the fear of being smacked down.

‘What sort of work?’ He’d have to rethink the Antonia he knew before. This girl was tentative, unsure of herself, unsure of her place in the world and the reaction she would get when she voiced an opinion. That bastard!

‘Maybe in a cafe. Cooking. I like that and I’m good at it. Or waitressing … anything.’

‘Great. There are a couple of cafes, a restaurant and the pub. We supply them with fruit and vegetables. I’m sure I can organise something. And I’ll introduce you to Flynn. He’s the man to see in town. He’s the real estate agent and he owns the pub. I’ll make sure he finds you something really good.’

‘Thanks Simon.’ She stood up. ‘I’m really happy you want to see the twins.’

‘Tonia, of course I would. Did you think I wouldn’t?’

She smoothed the fabric of her dress over her knees. ‘I wasn’t sure. I hoped … but …’ Her eyes met his. ‘Dad said be prepared for you to say no, that you might have a family, a wife …’

‘I don’t.’

‘What about Lauren?’

He frowned. ‘What about her?’

‘Isn’t she your girlfriend?’

‘No, she’s just a friend.’

Antonia studied him for a moment with one of the inscrutable female expressions he could never figure out. Lauren did it too, sometimes. Antonia’s had a hint of amusement. She picked up her handbag.

‘Do me a favour, Simon? Please don’t tell anyone about my past, what happened to me. I want to start fresh. A new life. I don’t want to be pitied or discussed.’

‘What about the kids? I’m not ashamed of having them.’ He smiled. ‘I’m proud. Twins. That’s fantastic!’

A genuine smile lit her face and the teenage Antonia he’d loved so much made a reappearance. ‘I guess we can tell the truth about them. You thought I’d had an abortion. We split up and I was living somewhere else with my parents. Kind of blame our parents.’

He laughed because that was so Antonia at seventeen.

‘Be vague. Okay, I can do that.’

She said, ‘When can I meet this Flynn person? Is the town named after him?’

Chapter 2

Antonia followed Simon’s battered ute back into the small town of Flynn’s Crossing, quivering with relief. He’d taken the news amazingly well, although in some deep-down part of her mind she knew he would despite Dad’s warning. Dad meant well but he didn’t know Simon the way she did; he barely knew Simon at all, that had been the problem. Part of the problem, she corrected herself. Dad wasn’t to blame for her appalling decisions and he said several times he and Mum would have stood by her and supported her through whatever choice she made about her pregnancy. If she’d given them a chance by telling them.

But that was then. This was now and she meant what she’d told Simon. Fresh start. New place, new friends, new happy memories. Sarah and Jacob would go to the white weatherboard primary school and gradually forget they’d spent the first five years of their lives as captives. Already they were blossoming in the knowledge they wouldn’t be shouted at or told to be quiet, and that their mother wouldn’t be bashed by the man who told them he was their father. They had grandparents and an uncle who loved them unreservedly. Now they would have their real father.

New life, new thoughts. She clamped her hands on the steering wheel and focused on the road. Driving was still a novelty. Dad had bought her this second-hand red Honda and she loved it and what it represented. Her freedom. She’d gained her licence shortly before her abduction but … No. That part of her life was over.

Who was this Flynn? He sounded like one of those wealthy landowners in a soapie who thought they owned everyone and everything in the district. Maybe he did, though Simon laughed at her question and said the town was named after some early settler. She didn’t care so long as he had a house she could rent at a reasonable rate, and if he owned the pub maybe he could give her a job in the kitchen as well. He and Simon seemed to be mates, judging by the conversation they’d had when Simon phoned him.

She chuckled softly. Simon was still as clueless about girls as ever. Lauren was clearly in love with him but he was oblivious. Poor girl. She seemed nice, and who could blame her for a bit of jealousy when some old girlfriend turns up out of the blue and goes off with her man?

Lauren needn’t worry, that wasn’t going to happen. She and Simon had run their course six years ago and seeing him now didn’t reignite any emotion beyond relief and gratitude that he was prepared to love his children. That was enough for her. She couldn’t face any sort of relationship with a man. Now she wanted to be herself, find out who she was and what she could do, explore life with Sarah and Jacob and teach them they could do or be anything, work on enjoying the freedom and new experiences. Be happy again. The last thing she needed was a man messing with her life.

Her fingers ached and she realised she’d begun gripping the steering wheel in a stranglehold. She breathed in slowly and relaxed her hands, shaking first one then the other to remove the tension. She was in control of her life now.

Simon slowed at the town sign and Antonia did likewise as they drove down the main street. She liked the small country town feel of the place. Apart from the two-storey pub, the buildings were neat, small, wooden-framed with shaded verandahs, all nestled snugly into the folds and curves of the hilly terrain and surrounded by lush gardens. When she arrived earlier, she’d asked for directions at the Bluebird Cafe and the red-haired woman had been very friendly and helpful, directing her to the Mountain View Motel where she booked a room for the night, giving her a run-down of Simon’s gardening business and introducing herself as Bettina.

‘It’s a cooperative,’ she’d said, leaning on the counter, ready to deliver a thorough explanation of what that entailed. A group of six people running a market garden-style operation and supplying the local area with fresh organically grown fruit and vegetables and honey. Very successful, too, though they weren’t concerned with making money. They liked the lifestyle. Simon wasn’t one of the founders but he’d been there for about four years. The original people were Aidan and Georgia with their friend Rufus. The others had come in later, Lauren being the most recent, as the business expanded. She couldn’t remember who the sixth one was but Bettina thought Lauren and Simon would be a good match.

All the information came with barely any prompting on Antonia’s part and she knew Bettina, itching to discover exactly who she was and why she was looking for Simon, would expect an explanation of her own in return. She didn’t get it. She’d find out soon enough.

Simon parked outside the pub and she swung the Honda in beside him and got out.

A man stood on the wide wooden verandah watching, hands on hips, as she and Simon came up the steps towards him: white shirt tucked into worn blue jeans, slightly tousled sun bleached hair, well-built, strong but not musclebound, an aura of confidence. Good looking and knew it. A man sure of his place and his worth, the owner of the town. Just seeing him made her breathing shallow, made her tense.

‘G’day, mate,’ he said. White teeth flashed in the tanned face.

‘G’day, Flynn.’ Their palms smacked together in a handshake. A pair of piercing blue eyes met hers. ‘Antonia. Welcome to Flynn’s Crossing.’

‘Hello.’ Her hand disappeared into his and she couldn’t prevent the instinctive flinch as he gripped her fingers.

‘Sorry.’ He let go instantly, his face collapsed in remorse. ‘Don’t know my own strength.’

She managed a tiny smile. ‘It’s okay, Mr Flynn.’

‘Just Flynn.’ His smile was reassuringly warm, the voice and expression softer when he said, ‘Simon tells me you’re looking for a place to rent. A house.’

‘Yes. Two bedrooms would do. It’s just me and my children.’ She waited for the inevitable query about a husband or partner but Simon jumped in.

‘You need three or four bedrooms,’ he said. ‘Two isn’t enough. What about visitors?’

‘Come inside.’ Flynn led them through the empty bar area to a courtyard with tables and chairs. Potted flowering plants set about on the brick paving and a trellis covered with bright purple flowers made it a cool, welcoming space. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘No thanks.’

‘How many children?’ he asked when they’d chosen a table in the shade.

‘I have five-year-old twins.’

‘They must be a handful.’ Again that sparkling smile, but it had an assessing edge. He must be doing quick mental arithmetic, figuring she’d been a teenage mother, but he oozed charm. A man confident in his looks and ability to get his own way. Her skin prickled uncomfortably. He made her edgy, unsettled, the way he looked at her. They should leave.

‘No … they … they’re very good. They’re very quiet. No trouble.’ She glanced at Simon for help, forcing herself to stay seated when she wanted to run for the car.

‘Is there anything suitable in the area?’ he asked.

‘As a matter of fact, there is a house.’ The blue searchlights turned their beam on her. ‘Perfect for you—but the owner really wants to sell it rather than rent.’

‘Oh.’ Antonia nodded. ‘Okay, well, thank you.’ She looked at Simon. ‘We should go and not waste Flynn’s time.’

It had been a long shot. Flynn’s Crossing was small, a bit out of the way to attract many tourists and retirees even though it was a throughway to the mountains. Apart from the hikers and travellers, people came and stayed put or had been here for generations. The whole venture was fraught with maybes and ifs. She pushed her chair back.

‘When would you be wanting to move up here?’

She may as well not have spoken.

‘As soon as possible. But if there’s nothing available … I can look elsewhere.’

‘You must know of something,’ said Simon. ‘Come on, Flynn. You know everything.’

She waited, hands